


My Boy

by penguingal



Category: White Collar
Genre: Bondage, D/s themes, M/M, light punishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-03
Updated: 2011-01-03
Packaged: 2018-06-07 06:53:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6792052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penguingal/pseuds/penguingal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I am utterly convinced that Peter is Neal's Dom, and as such, that he would be less than pleased to see someone else putting cuffs on him. This is what happens.</p>
    </blockquote>





	My Boy

**Author's Note:**

> I am utterly convinced that Peter is Neal's Dom, and as such, that he would be less than pleased to see someone else putting cuffs on him. This is what happens.

Neal sat alone in the dark after Mozzie took the FAA recording with him to try to enhance the sound. He stared out at the New York skyline, trying to figure out what Kate’s last words had really meant and couldn’t help wondering if he and Peter were supposed to have died when the plane exploded. The thought of Peter being killed sent a cold shiver down Neal’s spine and his hand started to shake.

He’d finally gotten it under control when there was a knock on his door. Neal took a deep breath and opened the door, unsurprised to find Peter on the other side of it. He stepped back to allow Peter to enter. “Peter.”

Peter shoved the door shut with his foot and grabbed Neal by the wrist, pulling him in close. “You really think after what you did you get to call me that tonight?”

“I’m sorry, Master,” Neal said, bowing his head.

“Better, Neal,” Peter said, releasing him. He shrugged his jacket off and laid it across the arm of Neal’s couch. He ran a hand over his eyes and into his hair.

Neal hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Master, your hand is shaking. What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Peter repeated, turning to face Neal again. “You can really stand there and ask me that?”

“Master…”

“Don’t. Don’t speak right now.” Peter pulled out a chair from the dinette and lowered himself into it. “Come here and kneel down.”

Neal obeyed without hesitation, kneeling at Peter’s feet but being careful not to touch him. It was rare that Peter felt the need to assert his dominance this way; it was normally something that was just understood and accepted between them. Neal was happy to do whatever Peter wanted him to do and the few demands Peter made on him were easy to obey. This was something different.

Peter was quiet for a few long moments. “The life we have together, Neal, the things we do, they come with certain things, certain emotions. Certain reactions. Do you have any idea… can you even conceive what it did to me to walk into this room and see someone else putting cuffs on my boy?”

Paling, Neal opened his mouth to reply but quickly shut it again when Peter lifted his hand.

“No one else, Neal. No one is supposed to get to touch you like that but me. Forget that I’m supposed to be keeping you out of trouble in the first place, when you do get in trouble, you’re my responsibility. It should have been me; it should have been my cuffs against your skin. And it made me crazy that it wasn’t.”

Neal reached out and put his hands on Peter’s thigh. “Master, please. I’m sorry. I am so sorry. Tell me what I can do to make it up to you,” he begged. He would do anything to get that sad, defeated tone to leave Peter’s voice.

Peter put his hand on Neal’s head, stroking his hair and cupping the back of his neck. He bent down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “You will definitely make it up to me. Stand up and strip. Right now.”

Neal’s clothes hit the floor in record time and he stood before Peter, open and ready for whatever he wanted.

“You’re going to wear my cuffs the rest of the night,” Peter said, taking them off of his belt and showing them to Neal. He smirked when Neal whimpered. Short periods of play time with the leather cuffs was one thing; that was soft and sensual and promised all sorts of delights. Having his hands immobilized for long periods of time, especially by the standard-issue metal cuffs, was none of those things. “You’re going to memorize how it feels to have them around your wrists so you know that the next time you screw up, this is what you’re going to get. No one else’s cuffs will ever be around your wrists ever again.”

Peter motioned for Neal to come closer and he closed the cuffs around Neal’s wrists behind his back. The sound and the feel of the cold metal against Neal’s skin made his heart start to beat faster and gooseflesh stand out on his arms, part of his automatic fear response. He was desperately trying to keep his breathing under control when Peter turned him so they were facing each other again.

“I know,” Peter said, stroking his hand over Neal’s hip. “I know you hate this. But I need you to understand how what you did affects me and that it has consequences for us.”

“Master, I didn’t think…”

“That’s exactly the problem, Neal. You didn’t think. About me, about what seeing you like that would do to me, about yourself. Well, you need to learn.” Peter sat with his knees together and indicated his lap. “Present yourself.”

Balking for a moment, Neal looked at Peter in surprise. “You’ve never asked that of me before.”

“This is new territory for us. You can safeword if it’s too much, but that means I’ll just have to come up with another lesson. The cuffs won’t come off.” Peter watched Neal carefully for a moment, unsurprised when Neal lowered himself across his lap, ass up in the air. He could feel it was hard for Neal to keep his balance with his hands bound the way they were, but that was by design. “Twenty licks should do it, don’t you think?”

“Yes, Master,” Neal said, dropping his head between his shoulders. Peter’s hand landed hard and heavy against his bare ass and Neal winced. Peter kept count for him out loud, and Neal did his best not to squirm too much. Still, as Peter passed the 10-strike mark, he was more than acutely aware of his burning, stinging skin and the feel of the metal digging into his wrists. Tears were streaming freely down his cheeks as Peter hit 15 and by the time Peter landed the final blow, Neal was shaking and breathing hard.

Peter stroked a calming hand down Neal’s spine. “That’s my boy. That’s my good boy,” he murmured as he helped Neal off his lap and onto his knees between Peter’s legs. “Are you okay? You can just nod.”

Neal took a deep breath and nodded, wishing he could reach up and wipe the remains of the tears off his cheeks. He sighed when Peter’s thumbs gently caressed his cheeks and did it for him. “Thank you, Master.”

“You’re welcome, Neal.” He stroked Neal’s face again. “Do you know how beautiful you are to me? Do you know how much I love you?”

“Yes, Master,” Neal murmured, daring to nuzzle into Peter’s leg briefly. “I know that’s why we’re doing this.”

“That is why we’re doing this,” Peter agreed. “And I’m not done yet.” He stood and quickly divested himself of his shirt, tie, pants, and underwear, revealing how hard he was after having Neal squirming under his hand. Moving the chair out of the way, he presented his cock to Neal, who opened his mouth without hesitation. “God…” Peter groaned as he sank himself into that familiar warmth. “That’s my boy, my beautiful boy.”

Neal relaxed and let Peter take him exactly how he wanted. He looked up at him from his position at his feet, drinking in the beautiful sight of Peter’s pleasure. Deep down, Neal loved when Peter took him like this and he could relax and float, happy in the knowledge that he belonged to Peter. But usually he got to tease and touch, running his hands along the hairs on Peter’s legs, rolling and tugging Peter’s balls. The cuffs rattled as Neal tried uselessly to move his hands.

Peter stroked his thumb over Neal’s cheek as he slid in out of his mouth. He knew how much Neal hated not being able to touch him while they did this, and his heart ached to not allow that for him. But punishment wasn’t supposed to be easy on either of them, not if he was doing his job correctly. He slid his hand into Neal’s hair, gripping it firmly as he chased his orgasm in the perfection of Neal’s mouth. It wasn’t long before he was coming down Neal’s throat, groaning as Neal’s tongue delicately licked him clean. When he pulled back, the only sound in the room was their mutual harsh breathing.

“Please, Master,” Neal murmured from his place at Peter’s feet. “Please.”

Peter looked down to see Neal’s neck and chest flushed, cock standing proudly away from his body. He stroked Neal’s hair once and pulled him to his feet. “You know the rules, Neal,” Peter said softly, pressing a kiss to his lips. “This is still punishment. You don’t get to come until punishment is over.”

Neal took a deep breath and rested his head on Peter’s chest, everything in him wanting to hold him close and the metal around his wrists reminding him that he couldn’t. “When will that be?” he asked softly.

“In the morning,” Peter replied gently.

“And I have to sleep in the cuffs?”

Peter stroked Neal’s skin. “You do, but I promise to make you as comfortable as possible in them. Neal, talk to me. If you’re not okay, you have to tell me.”

Taking another deep breath, Neal straightened and looked Peter in the eye. “I’m okay, Master. Thank you.”

“That’s my boy,” Peter murmured, kissing him again. He unlocked one of Neal’s wrists, letting Neal roll his shoulders for a moment before cuffing his hands in front of him once more. “Come on, it’s been a long day,” he said. “Time for bed.”

Neal gave Peter half a smile, following him willingly over to the bed. Peter arranged them so Neal was on his side, his arms stretched out in front of him while Peter spooned up behind him, holding him close. He sighed and leaned back into the comfort of Peter’s arms, sleep pulling at him.

….

Neal woke slowly. He always slept hard when Peter used him well, and with the added punishment and the long time spent in his subspace, he’d been nearly comatose. The first thing he became aware of was that he was no longer on his side but on his back. And the restraints around his wrists were no longer cold metal. Instead, body-warmed leather encased them, binding him to his bed frame. The final thing that hit him was the warm suction around his cock. He groaned in pleasure, arching up into the sensation.

“Morning, Neal,” Peter purred, sliding up his body to claim his lips. “You were really out.”

Neal groaned again, stretching as best as he could in his restraints. “Morning, Master.”

“Punishment’s over now,” Peter said, stroking Neal’s hair. “You don’t have to call me that.”

“I know. Feels right, still.”

Peter smiled and kissed Neal passionately. “Whatever you need, Neal,” he said.

“Thank you, Master,” Neal purred, arching into him again.

Peter smiled and caressed Neal’s face, knowing what he was really asking for. He pressed a soft kiss to his lips and kissed a line down his throat and chest, working his way back down to his cock. He drank in every sigh and gasp and involuntary writhe that Neal made, the taste of him sending his lust spiraling. Sometimes it scared him how badly he craved Neal, but his fate was sealed. He figured he might as well enjoy it.

Sighing, Neal closed his eyes and floated on waves of sensation. Peter’s mouth sent little shockwaves of pleasure along his skin, building until it crescendoed with the hard suction around his cock. He cried out, hands wrapping around the chain connecting his wrists to the headboard. Panting, Neal concentrated on the feel of Peter sucking on him like a starving man and gave up any pretense of control or finesse. After all they’d been through in the last 48 hours, he wanted nothing more than to let go.

Peter could feel how close Neal was and was happy to be able to give him what he needed. He worked Neal in a practiced rhythm, rolling and tugging on his balls until every muscle in Neal’s body seemed to tense as he came. Stroking and soothing him, Peter cleaned Neal off quickly and then released him from the cuffs.

“Peter,” Neal sighed as he automatically wrapped his arms tightly around him. “I love you.”

“I know,” Peter said, resting his head on Neal’s chest and listening to his heartbeat slow and even out. “I love you, too.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Always, Neal.”

“With our relationship the way it is, you could just order me to stop getting into trouble,” Neal said. “I can’t help but notice that last night you punished me for the way someone else touched me, not for stealing the recording in the first place. Why?”

Peter chuckled and propped himself up on his elbow so he could look Neal in the eyes. “Neal, I’ve never wanted to use our dynamic to change you. I’ve always hoped, maybe naively, that someday you would want to change on your own. I love _you_ , Neal, just as you are. And whatever else goes on, you’re mine. What I wanted to do was remind you that what you do affects me. If I ever had to lock you up again, it’d probably drive me mad. If it didn’t kill me. Just… remember that, okay?”

“If it means avoiding your metal cuffs again, I will definitely remember that,” Neal said, stroking the top of Peter’s head. “And you are a good influence on me, despite appearances. I love you just as you are, too.”

Leaning down, Peter claimed Neal’s lips again and gathered him in his arms. “I’m glad that’s settled.”


End file.
